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ctrl+c...
ctrl+v...
inside my head, i see myself, crouched down, face red, veins popping out of my forehead and neck and arms, with a faint but gradually increasing shriek coming from within.....
i see this figure of me let this howl out, fists held so tightly that my fingertips are about to push through my hands, sweating so profusely as to nearly be sweating blood, as my surroundings collapse and crush everyone around me in a bloody mess of carnage that would rival the twin towers' collapse. concrete, money, papers, limbs, cigarettes, twisted metal all in a mountain as i climb over it and just let out a relaxed sigh and light up a cigarette as i pop a squat on the hood of sara's car, which, incidentally is resting upon her crushed skull... peeking out from under her contorted midsection is a blood-soaked pile of those shitty fucking coupons they give us every couple of months that are good for like 20 cents off a denny's dinner or some shit. gee thanks for showing us you care, you fucking assholes... oh, is that eric's leg sticking out from the back of the car as well? oh, how wonderful. i start humming "and i think to myself... what a wonderful world..."
fucking people...
fuck
you give an inch. they want a mile.
i am too nice.
inside i despise every single fucking person i see on a day to day basis at the moment. yeah, sure, i say i don't mind picking you up before work.. yeah sure, i have nothing better to do than to drive to the other side of town to drop your bitch ass off. yeah, sure, you are giving me money... occasionally..... for rides. yeah, sure, i see you have no cigarettes and you are staring at me while i smoke, with that oh so familiar longing for a cigarette look. yeah, sure i give you one, and tell you it's no problem. yeah, sure, i'd love to interupt my evening to drive you around. i would love to rush myself from place to place. i love driving all over hell in a car with no insurance... just waiting to get pulled over and jailed and heavily ticketed. there is nothing i want more in my life than to treat you like the center of my universe. sure, i'd fucking love to show up to your place to pick you up, only to sit there for 3, 4, 5, 10 minutes while you finish getting high before work, or try to find whatever particular item your crackhead ass misplaced in your house... even though you had all fucking day to do this. i have no schedule. i have no need to stop and get a bite to eat on the way to work. i have no errands i need to run. you are all that exists to me. yes, you and your needs are my god. oh, sure supervisors... i'd be happy to let you bend me over and load me up like a shotgun without even having the common courtesy to give me a little reach around or even a little hush money... sure, talk to me like i am retarded when i point out that you are misinforming one of my fellow phoners on a new protocol that your brain can't even begin to comprehend, although my cat could have done a more efficient job than you at explaining/fixing the problem with the phoner... sure, i'lll take advice from you, even though i SWEAR i remember once driving behind a short bus and seeing you with a helmet on and licking the window like it was a fucking soft serve ice cream cone. wipe the drool from your chin, start walking upright and get out of my face, you fucking idiot. i am bitter. my superiors have trouble with things as simple as figuring out what ten days from today is.... not to mention things like 1.5 multiplied by 2. yeah, you fucking mongoloid, you better break out the calculator for that one. i see mommy and daddy's college money went to good use. oh wait, tell me again how your stoned, drunken, knees-to-the-sky-letting-any-ole-dick-get-in heathen ass makes you a Christian who is justified to tell me that i am a hell-bound heathen... oh, yeah... i don't go to church and apologize there for the shit i have done, just so i have a clean slate to do the same shit next week... yeah, tell me how i am going to hell for playing a show at a club that used to be a church, and you are going to heaven for what? oh yeah, that's right, it was all that time you spent destroying lives, selling drugs, being involved in shootings and homicide before you were convicted and spent time in prison, just so you could pick up where you left off when you got out... yeah, fucking judge me... i am the heathen... shit, you are preaching to me a religion that was created by the very people who bought and sold your ancestors like cattle and then forced upon them... and you call me a satanist when i mention the real religion of your ancestors, the religion that existed before Christianity... yeah, you hate white people and are so in touch with your African heritage... except when it comes to religion... i guess that's the one honest, true and good thing that the white folks did for you. they gave you something to be scared about... something to believe in... something to shut you up and stop scaring them and get you back to work in the fields..... and still today your retarded ass regurgitates this shit into my face.... fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
i could seriously go on for days....
fuck (and varitions of it) is my favorite word when i am typing....
on a completely unrelated note, it is now 4:30 in the morning... and the people above me are still having trouble getting their drum circle arranged. as if it isn't enough that the fucking meth heads, or whatever they are fucking run in place or play jenga with cinderblocks all night, now they have some big drums up there too. and.... oh.... yup, i have it figured out. it's tryouts for the broadway musical stomp. WHO THE FUCK STOMPS THAT FUCKING HARD WHEN THEY WALK!!!!!!!!??????? it's like a fucking four year old throwing a tantrum and being sent to their room upstairs. literally, like that obnoxiously exaggerated stomping that is heard like two blocks away. shit. all night long... stomp stomp stomp stompstompstomp!!!!!!! from one end of the apartment to the other... oh my god, i think they are bowling now too! oh. nope. their lifesize fucking leaning tower of pisa just tipped over or something. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING!!!!!??? oh man. i looked at guns at the pawn shop the other day. they should count their blessings that i decided not to buy that sexy pistol...... this time.
i don't mind loud neighbors, as long as it's a consistent loudness. maybe like a constant drum beat... but this fucking random fucking stomp stomp stomp bang bang grind thump thump grind grind bang bang!!!!!
fuck.
i am seriously going insane.
insane
i smoked a pack of cigarettes in five hours. five hours!! that's one cigarette every fifteen minutes. and i think i actually took an hour nap somewhere in that time too. so it was actually like a pack smoked in four hours. i am so stressed.
oh my god!!!! the stomping!!!!
goooooosfrabaaaaahh....
goooooosfrabaaaaahh.....
not working.
serenity now.....
serenity now......
anyway.
i guess things in my life are going better than before. i am at the threshold of the breakthrough into light after a period of darkness. that is, as long as i don't end up killing anybody as a result of my present tension.
haven't been online since my last update. alaina has moved and i haven't been able to get over to her new place and use her computer. been so busy at work trying to hit on impossible projects that i haven't had the time to even take a real break and use the computer there.
the universe is strange... always gotta keep everything "even". allison moved out. that's good for my personal fincances since i am not supporting her anymore. but, now i gotta find a new roomie. so here i am, saving a little money, and what happens? i have to offer my first born for a little gasoline now. fucking ridiculous. i remember paying 86 cents a gallon... i propose that we start hijacking tanker trucks. it really is the only way. the cost of living has gone up so unbelievably exponentially in the past few years, yet our employers have not given us any type of raise in pay. i lost ten pounds in one week recently. that's not healthy. i have such a high metabolism that i NEED to eat a lot, and when i can't, my body starts consuming itself. fucked up. oh well. i am not an unhealthy skinny yet. i now weigh what i am supposed to: 184lbs. i can't believe i used to weigh over 230lbs a few years ago. fatty boombalatty.
thankfully, i am not getting evicted. up until very recently, i still hadn't even paid my august rent. i have been really scared that i was gonna come home and find all my shit in the dumpster. i just simply haven't had the money to pay rent. i had allison's half, but i figured there's no sense in sending that in when i don't have my half. i have been getting more hours at work again and will soon be able to pay the shit off. so i had been meaning to call my landlords and see if i could set up some kind of payment plan, but i don't have access to a telephone for personal purposes anymore. i just used to use allison's celly before. (this also poses a problem with filling out job applications.) i finally had a chance to use the phone at work on the 29th. my new landlords kick ass. that's all there is to say about that. Morleigh is a far better company than our previous owners, DTN. so i am gonna get all of that shit paid. yeah baby. i am not homeless.
in case anybody is wondering, Progressive insurance is not as cool and helpful and considerate as they make themselves sound in their commercials. a little computer error they had and some misunderstanding between two or three of their representatives and myself has left me with no insurance. i therefore now drive the speed limit.
ok. enough with the bitching.
here's some good shit. i am playing a show at temple club on september 15th. i, as well as the other people involved in the show, am way geeked about this show. it's gonna kick ass. more info at blankartists.com.
i am gonna kick ass. truly. a total rock star. panties will fall upon me like fresh snow. the floor will flood with vaginal fluids at the bitches' excitement at my presence.
well, it's not all happy fluffy bunnies. i mean, i don't have equipment to do a live performance, but i am positive things will work out. somehow, i have to find a handful of samplers to dump all the samples into from the tracks i have made on this pc. i really would be bubbling with delight if i could just get my hands on a roland sp606 and/or a couple boss sp303 samplers. actually, i am getting more and more stressed about this show. i mean, it's less than a week away now and i still don't have the equipment i need.... hrmmm. nobody in lansing has or even knows what a boss sp 303 is. what the fuck. i figured one of the music instrument stores would have some.... this is very problematical. i am remaining positive. my kick ass mom gave me $500 and i had $200, all to spend on a few samplers. i never thought i would have money to spend on things and not be able to find the things to spend it on. what a weird problem. never had that problem before. it's ok. still remaining positive. a little stressed. but positive. guy at marshall music wants me to buy their roland sp606 for $615. bwahaha! i think not. i wanna buy one used, for 500 but don't have enough time to get it on ebay and then shipped to me and then learn it well enough to perform with it. i found a decent laptop for 450, and then i was gonna look for two used sp303s to go with it. went back for the laptop with the intentions of talking them down to 400, and some other sucker had already snatched it up. asshole. a laptop would be very beneficial when it comes to mobile production/performance of what i do.
oh, the drums upstairs have started!!
ok, drifting off beat...
stopping...
what the fuck?
oh, it's apparently time to run a few stomping laps around the apartment again.
jesus, i really want to drill a hole through my ceiling and shove a tiny camera up there to figure out what the fuck they are doing. seriously. they do not sleep. they do this all day and all night long. it is so fucking strange.
i am going crazy. i just found myself actually yelling really loud, "what the fuuuuck!! who the fucks stomps like that when they walk!!?? what the fuck are you people doing!!!!??"
they are unscathed. i doubt they heard me over the fucking jackhammer that they are apparently using as a fucking pogo stick...
other random tidbits that i don't feel like elaborating too much upon, as i have now spent far too long on this as it is.
-i miss stobers.
-i sucked on a girl's boobies. boobies which were, incidentally, being sucked on and played with by two other girls who were in the car with us a little before hand. a lesser man would have a far better story to tell here.
-frankie, one of the boys who dove in for an open mouth sloppy kiss with me last summer has now left his boyfriend (the other guy who tried the same thing with me) and now wants my ass so bad.
-the cheesy, almost 30 yr old, yet amazingly, STILL GOTH chick (i know. i am an asshole. but there are things people should grow out of: being goth, being punk, listening to ICP etc etc. but girls need to STOP growing out of that whole running-around-and-lifting-their-skirt-over-their-head thing though) that i work with has a brother who does good tattoos at economical prices. a mental note has been made.
-on the topic of tattoos, i have tattooed some runes on the top of both of my feet. although this is something i have been meaning to do for some time, what pushed me into finally doing it was masturbation. see, i beat off one night, and just could not finish. now, i have been known to leave many things in my life unfinished. but when it comes to masturbation, i'm not giving up, baby. anyway, i had to give up, because i wore my special buddy a little raw. so i was applying some a&d ointment to my peepee and that smell just makes me crave the whole getting a tattoo process. (the smell of a&d, that is. not the smell of my peepee.) so i dug out my old homemade machine that i have already inked myself up far too much with and went to town on my feet. and voila! new tattoos and some more time for me to smell a&d ointment.
-in case anyone out there is wondering, my member is now healed and happy as can be. (this is a lie. it could be happier. i see lots of things it wants to be inside of when i drive through east lansing. lots and lots and lots of things it craves..... yeah, it could be happier....) sidetracked... anyway about a week and a half after the rubbing raw incident, i had, not only the most impressively engorged erection i have ever seen on myself (i was seriously so proud of it. i should have gotten some pictures), but also, quite possibly, the best orgasm i have ever had. i actually let out like a pornstar style grunt and was seriously light headed and slightly deaf for like ten minutes afterward. weird.
come on, you're reading craigmatic's journal... what did you expect?
ctrl+v...
inside my head, i see myself, crouched down, face red, veins popping out of my forehead and neck and arms, with a faint but gradually increasing shriek coming from within.....
i see this figure of me let this howl out, fists held so tightly that my fingertips are about to push through my hands, sweating so profusely as to nearly be sweating blood, as my surroundings collapse and crush everyone around me in a bloody mess of carnage that would rival the twin towers' collapse. concrete, money, papers, limbs, cigarettes, twisted metal all in a mountain as i climb over it and just let out a relaxed sigh and light up a cigarette as i pop a squat on the hood of sara's car, which, incidentally is resting upon her crushed skull... peeking out from under her contorted midsection is a blood-soaked pile of those shitty fucking coupons they give us every couple of months that are good for like 20 cents off a denny's dinner or some shit. gee thanks for showing us you care, you fucking assholes... oh, is that eric's leg sticking out from the back of the car as well? oh, how wonderful. i start humming "and i think to myself... what a wonderful world..."
fucking people...
fuck
you give an inch. they want a mile.
i am too nice.
inside i despise every single fucking person i see on a day to day basis at the moment. yeah, sure, i say i don't mind picking you up before work.. yeah sure, i have nothing better to do than to drive to the other side of town to drop your bitch ass off. yeah, sure, you are giving me money... occasionally..... for rides. yeah, sure, i see you have no cigarettes and you are staring at me while i smoke, with that oh so familiar longing for a cigarette look. yeah, sure i give you one, and tell you it's no problem. yeah, sure, i'd love to interupt my evening to drive you around. i would love to rush myself from place to place. i love driving all over hell in a car with no insurance... just waiting to get pulled over and jailed and heavily ticketed. there is nothing i want more in my life than to treat you like the center of my universe. sure, i'd fucking love to show up to your place to pick you up, only to sit there for 3, 4, 5, 10 minutes while you finish getting high before work, or try to find whatever particular item your crackhead ass misplaced in your house... even though you had all fucking day to do this. i have no schedule. i have no need to stop and get a bite to eat on the way to work. i have no errands i need to run. you are all that exists to me. yes, you and your needs are my god. oh, sure supervisors... i'd be happy to let you bend me over and load me up like a shotgun without even having the common courtesy to give me a little reach around or even a little hush money... sure, talk to me like i am retarded when i point out that you are misinforming one of my fellow phoners on a new protocol that your brain can't even begin to comprehend, although my cat could have done a more efficient job than you at explaining/fixing the problem with the phoner... sure, i'lll take advice from you, even though i SWEAR i remember once driving behind a short bus and seeing you with a helmet on and licking the window like it was a fucking soft serve ice cream cone. wipe the drool from your chin, start walking upright and get out of my face, you fucking idiot. i am bitter. my superiors have trouble with things as simple as figuring out what ten days from today is.... not to mention things like 1.5 multiplied by 2. yeah, you fucking mongoloid, you better break out the calculator for that one. i see mommy and daddy's college money went to good use. oh wait, tell me again how your stoned, drunken, knees-to-the-sky-letting-any-ole-dick-get-in heathen ass makes you a Christian who is justified to tell me that i am a hell-bound heathen... oh, yeah... i don't go to church and apologize there for the shit i have done, just so i have a clean slate to do the same shit next week... yeah, tell me how i am going to hell for playing a show at a club that used to be a church, and you are going to heaven for what? oh yeah, that's right, it was all that time you spent destroying lives, selling drugs, being involved in shootings and homicide before you were convicted and spent time in prison, just so you could pick up where you left off when you got out... yeah, fucking judge me... i am the heathen... shit, you are preaching to me a religion that was created by the very people who bought and sold your ancestors like cattle and then forced upon them... and you call me a satanist when i mention the real religion of your ancestors, the religion that existed before Christianity... yeah, you hate white people and are so in touch with your African heritage... except when it comes to religion... i guess that's the one honest, true and good thing that the white folks did for you. they gave you something to be scared about... something to believe in... something to shut you up and stop scaring them and get you back to work in the fields..... and still today your retarded ass regurgitates this shit into my face.... fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
i could seriously go on for days....
fuck (and varitions of it) is my favorite word when i am typing....
on a completely unrelated note, it is now 4:30 in the morning... and the people above me are still having trouble getting their drum circle arranged. as if it isn't enough that the fucking meth heads, or whatever they are fucking run in place or play jenga with cinderblocks all night, now they have some big drums up there too. and.... oh.... yup, i have it figured out. it's tryouts for the broadway musical stomp. WHO THE FUCK STOMPS THAT FUCKING HARD WHEN THEY WALK!!!!!!!!??????? it's like a fucking four year old throwing a tantrum and being sent to their room upstairs. literally, like that obnoxiously exaggerated stomping that is heard like two blocks away. shit. all night long... stomp stomp stomp stompstompstomp!!!!!!! from one end of the apartment to the other... oh my god, i think they are bowling now too! oh. nope. their lifesize fucking leaning tower of pisa just tipped over or something. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING!!!!!??? oh man. i looked at guns at the pawn shop the other day. they should count their blessings that i decided not to buy that sexy pistol...... this time.
i don't mind loud neighbors, as long as it's a consistent loudness. maybe like a constant drum beat... but this fucking random fucking stomp stomp stomp bang bang grind thump thump grind grind bang bang!!!!!
fuck.
i am seriously going insane.
insane
i smoked a pack of cigarettes in five hours. five hours!! that's one cigarette every fifteen minutes. and i think i actually took an hour nap somewhere in that time too. so it was actually like a pack smoked in four hours. i am so stressed.
oh my god!!!! the stomping!!!!
goooooosfrabaaaaahh....
goooooosfrabaaaaahh.....
not working.
serenity now.....
serenity now......
anyway.
i guess things in my life are going better than before. i am at the threshold of the breakthrough into light after a period of darkness. that is, as long as i don't end up killing anybody as a result of my present tension.
haven't been online since my last update. alaina has moved and i haven't been able to get over to her new place and use her computer. been so busy at work trying to hit on impossible projects that i haven't had the time to even take a real break and use the computer there.
the universe is strange... always gotta keep everything "even". allison moved out. that's good for my personal fincances since i am not supporting her anymore. but, now i gotta find a new roomie. so here i am, saving a little money, and what happens? i have to offer my first born for a little gasoline now. fucking ridiculous. i remember paying 86 cents a gallon... i propose that we start hijacking tanker trucks. it really is the only way. the cost of living has gone up so unbelievably exponentially in the past few years, yet our employers have not given us any type of raise in pay. i lost ten pounds in one week recently. that's not healthy. i have such a high metabolism that i NEED to eat a lot, and when i can't, my body starts consuming itself. fucked up. oh well. i am not an unhealthy skinny yet. i now weigh what i am supposed to: 184lbs. i can't believe i used to weigh over 230lbs a few years ago. fatty boombalatty.
thankfully, i am not getting evicted. up until very recently, i still hadn't even paid my august rent. i have been really scared that i was gonna come home and find all my shit in the dumpster. i just simply haven't had the money to pay rent. i had allison's half, but i figured there's no sense in sending that in when i don't have my half. i have been getting more hours at work again and will soon be able to pay the shit off. so i had been meaning to call my landlords and see if i could set up some kind of payment plan, but i don't have access to a telephone for personal purposes anymore. i just used to use allison's celly before. (this also poses a problem with filling out job applications.) i finally had a chance to use the phone at work on the 29th. my new landlords kick ass. that's all there is to say about that. Morleigh is a far better company than our previous owners, DTN. so i am gonna get all of that shit paid. yeah baby. i am not homeless.
in case anybody is wondering, Progressive insurance is not as cool and helpful and considerate as they make themselves sound in their commercials. a little computer error they had and some misunderstanding between two or three of their representatives and myself has left me with no insurance. i therefore now drive the speed limit.
ok. enough with the bitching.
here's some good shit. i am playing a show at temple club on september 15th. i, as well as the other people involved in the show, am way geeked about this show. it's gonna kick ass. more info at blankartists.com.
i am gonna kick ass. truly. a total rock star. panties will fall upon me like fresh snow. the floor will flood with vaginal fluids at the bitches' excitement at my presence.
well, it's not all happy fluffy bunnies. i mean, i don't have equipment to do a live performance, but i am positive things will work out. somehow, i have to find a handful of samplers to dump all the samples into from the tracks i have made on this pc. i really would be bubbling with delight if i could just get my hands on a roland sp606 and/or a couple boss sp303 samplers. actually, i am getting more and more stressed about this show. i mean, it's less than a week away now and i still don't have the equipment i need.... hrmmm. nobody in lansing has or even knows what a boss sp 303 is. what the fuck. i figured one of the music instrument stores would have some.... this is very problematical. i am remaining positive. my kick ass mom gave me $500 and i had $200, all to spend on a few samplers. i never thought i would have money to spend on things and not be able to find the things to spend it on. what a weird problem. never had that problem before. it's ok. still remaining positive. a little stressed. but positive. guy at marshall music wants me to buy their roland sp606 for $615. bwahaha! i think not. i wanna buy one used, for 500 but don't have enough time to get it on ebay and then shipped to me and then learn it well enough to perform with it. i found a decent laptop for 450, and then i was gonna look for two used sp303s to go with it. went back for the laptop with the intentions of talking them down to 400, and some other sucker had already snatched it up. asshole. a laptop would be very beneficial when it comes to mobile production/performance of what i do.
oh, the drums upstairs have started!!
ok, drifting off beat...
stopping...
what the fuck?
oh, it's apparently time to run a few stomping laps around the apartment again.
jesus, i really want to drill a hole through my ceiling and shove a tiny camera up there to figure out what the fuck they are doing. seriously. they do not sleep. they do this all day and all night long. it is so fucking strange.
i am going crazy. i just found myself actually yelling really loud, "what the fuuuuck!! who the fucks stomps like that when they walk!!?? what the fuck are you people doing!!!!??"
they are unscathed. i doubt they heard me over the fucking jackhammer that they are apparently using as a fucking pogo stick...
other random tidbits that i don't feel like elaborating too much upon, as i have now spent far too long on this as it is.
-i miss stobers.
-i sucked on a girl's boobies. boobies which were, incidentally, being sucked on and played with by two other girls who were in the car with us a little before hand. a lesser man would have a far better story to tell here.
-frankie, one of the boys who dove in for an open mouth sloppy kiss with me last summer has now left his boyfriend (the other guy who tried the same thing with me) and now wants my ass so bad.
-the cheesy, almost 30 yr old, yet amazingly, STILL GOTH chick (i know. i am an asshole. but there are things people should grow out of: being goth, being punk, listening to ICP etc etc. but girls need to STOP growing out of that whole running-around-and-lifting-their-skirt-over-their-head thing though) that i work with has a brother who does good tattoos at economical prices. a mental note has been made.
-on the topic of tattoos, i have tattooed some runes on the top of both of my feet. although this is something i have been meaning to do for some time, what pushed me into finally doing it was masturbation. see, i beat off one night, and just could not finish. now, i have been known to leave many things in my life unfinished. but when it comes to masturbation, i'm not giving up, baby. anyway, i had to give up, because i wore my special buddy a little raw. so i was applying some a&d ointment to my peepee and that smell just makes me crave the whole getting a tattoo process. (the smell of a&d, that is. not the smell of my peepee.) so i dug out my old homemade machine that i have already inked myself up far too much with and went to town on my feet. and voila! new tattoos and some more time for me to smell a&d ointment.
-in case anyone out there is wondering, my member is now healed and happy as can be. (this is a lie. it could be happier. i see lots of things it wants to be inside of when i drive through east lansing. lots and lots and lots of things it craves..... yeah, it could be happier....) sidetracked... anyway about a week and a half after the rubbing raw incident, i had, not only the most impressively engorged erection i have ever seen on myself (i was seriously so proud of it. i should have gotten some pictures), but also, quite possibly, the best orgasm i have ever had. i actually let out like a pornstar style grunt and was seriously light headed and slightly deaf for like ten minutes afterward. weird.
come on, you're reading craigmatic's journal... what did you expect?